


Fight for your Life

by lasvegas_lights



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, FBI Farah, Hurt/Comfort, Violence, no Blackwing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-06-28 11:12:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15706080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasvegas_lights/pseuds/lasvegas_lights
Summary: Amanda's life gets turned upside down when she witnesses a murder. Now a psychopath wants her dead and she has a week to get across the state for trial. With a possible mole in the agency, Farah puts Amanda's life into the hands of Rowdy 3 Protection to get her there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HUUUUUUGE thanks to intricatecakes for picking up on all my punctuation and grammar mistakes. Hope you like!

_“How the hell did this happen?”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_“You don’t know?”_

The draft blowing through the corridor seeped into Amanda’s damp clothes and she shivered uncontrollably. Shifting in the uncomfortable plastic chair she had been placed down in, she stared down at her shaking arms wrapped tightly around her body and held her breath to stop herself from hyperventilating. Even with the door closed, she could hear the conversation clearly, neither of them were attempting to keep their voice down.

_“They knew where we were, knew how to get in the building undetected, I barely got her out of there alive.”_

_“Yes, and I lost three of my best agents in the process, what the hell am I supposed to say to the Director?”_

_“Tell her that it’ll be worth it when Kellum Knight is put behind bars where he can’t hurt anyone else.”_

Her mind replayed the last hour on repeat. The sharp crack of the door being forced open, the eardrum-bursting bangs of guns going off, a crash of glass and then nothing but the woosh of air as she was forced through the window and down the fire escape, the ice cold rain punishing her bare arms.

Without a mirror, she could only guess just how much of a mess she looked. Her normally thick black eyeliner smeared down her cheeks, her hair a straggly mess of wet tangles and her clothes ripped and bloodied.

What the hell had she gotten herself into?

_“And how may I ask are we going to get her to the trial without her or any more of my men dying? We’ve still got to get her across the state to the courthouse, remember.”_

_“I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it.”_

She paid no attention to the man standing to attention a few feet away, hand resting on the gun clipped to his belt nor to the few nightshifters scurrying through the hallway, slowing down and glancing at her as they walked past, like she was a car crash on the side of the road. Most staff had gone home hours ago, long before the attack on the safehouse had begun.

_“If you’re thinking about who I think you’re thinking about, then no, not them.”_

_“I already made the call.”_

_“Agent Black, this isn’t a good idea.”_

_“I know they’re unconventional-”_

_“Unconventional? They’re uncontrollable, unprofessional, they lack any formal training and don’t listen to orders.”_

_“And they’re the best protection team out there, not lost a client yet.”_

_“Are you sure?”_

_“There has to be a mole in the agency, it’s the only explanation for how they found us. If I trust any more people in this building to protect her, she won’t make it to trial.”_ _  
_

_“.....Fine, we’ll do it your way, but if she doesn’t make it to the courthouse in time, it’ll be all on you.”_

_“I’ll take the risk.”_

Amanda jerked when the door swung open. The surprise forced another flood of adrenaline through her system and the bitter taste in her mouth returned.

“Amanda?”

Amanda looked up at Agent Farah Black, hating the expression of pity looking back at her. The same look she had been seeing on everyone’s faced since they first brought her in. She knew now why they looked at her like that. Because they all knew she was completely screwed.

“Are you okay?”

Was she okay? Amanda couldn’t help the snort that left her body. She was the furthest thing from okay. Her life had been completely turned upside down by a single cigarette. She was never going to get to see her brother or her friends ever again and there was a madman who wanted her in the ground. The snort turned into a sov and suddenly her throat was tight and moisture threatened to escape her eyes.

“Come on.” She placed an encouraging hand on Amanda’s shoulder. “Let’s go sit at my desk, I can find you some clean clothes.”

Amanda’s muscles protested when she rose from the chair. As they walked down the corridor, Farah’s hand didn’t leave her arm, her skin warm against Amanda’s and she appreciated the gesture.

She was guided through the building to an open bullpen, Farah navigating them both through the maze of empty desks. The overhead lights were off, the room illuminated only by small desk lamps and the glow from identical computer screensavers.

Farah’s desk stood out from the others in the room. Every other desk was messy, piled high with files and papers, whilst Farah’s was neat and orderly. Even the pens were all lined up by colour. The only personal item was a framed photo of her and a man looking down the camera with matching expressions.

Farah followed her eyes and smiled. “My brother, works for Homeland Security,” she explained. She motioned towards the seat placed at the side of the desk. “Sit, I’ll be back soon.

Amanda lowered herself down into the plastic chair and listened to Farah’s footsteps as she left the room. Alone, Amanda’s thoughts went back to the last forty eight hours. It had been Farah who had found her mid panic attack and calmed her down, driven her to the FBI office and told her she needed to testify. Amanda knew she didn’t have much of a choice, not when her testimony would be the only thing to put Kellum Knight behind bars. Right now she wasn’t even sure Farah could keep her alive long enough to make it to trial.

She found herself tapping a beat out on the edge of Farah’s desk to calm her nerves and she wished she was back home with her crappy TGI Friday’s job followed by Saturday night band practise with her brother. It may not by her dream life, but it was safe and simple.

“Nice drumming.”

Amanda gasped and her head spun round sharply. Ignoring the twinge in her neck, her eyes fell on a man standing a few feet away from her. Rising from the seat, she took a couple of steps back away from the man and towards the wall.

“Who the hell are you?” she demanded. He was certainly no FBI agent. His hair was bleached white and held up in a mohawk, whilst his beard was dark and scruffy. With pierced ears and shapes of black ink across his skin, he looked more like a foe than friend. He stood tall, with broad shoulders, legs apart and strong arms folded across his chest, revealing a confidence that left Amanda alarmed. Amanda had thought she would be safe within the walls of the FBI. “How did you get in here?” _And where the hell was Farah?_

“Through the front door, like everybody else,” he answered with a shrug.

Amanda took another step backwards. “Are you here to kill me?”

“Kill you?” he repeated and looked at her in confusion.

“Oh good, you two have met.” Amanda’s eyes snapped to Farah as she re-entered the room, a plastic bag in one hand.

Amanda's eyes flicked between Farah and the stranger suspiciously.

“Where are the others?” Farah directed at the man.

“Outside. They're not big fans of this building.”

His reply and corresponding smirk didn't make Amanda feel any better.

“Amanda, meet Martin, he runs Rowdy 3 protection, he's here to get you to the trial.”

“Him?” Amanda balked, “You've gotta be kidding."

Farah sighed and stepped in-between her and the man she now knew was Martin. “Do you trust me?”

Amanda honestly didn't know how to answer. Farah had saved her life but she’d only known the agent for a couple of days. “I guess,” she finally admitted.

“Well, I trust him,” Farah motioned back to Martin standing behind her with a nod of her head. “He'll get you there in one piece.”

Amanda’s mind replayed the conversation she had overheard between Farah and her boss who certainly hadn't been sure about Farah's choice in protection. Farah was putting Amanda's life in the hands of a delinquent punk who didn't even seem to be armed. The only thing he had going for him was Amanda's mild attraction which she was choosing to suppress.

“Do I have a choice?”

“You could try your luck out there with Kellum’s goons?” Martin suggested.

Amanda sent him a sharp look over Farah’s shoulder. Martin didn’t react.

“Here,” Farah lifted the bag in her hand towards Amanda. “These should fit, I’m afraid it’s only some gym clothes but they'll do until you can get to a store.”

Amanda took the bag and briefly peered inside at the contents.

“Come on, I'll walk you both out.” Farah’s hand returned to Amanda's arm as she led her out of the room and back towards the entrance. Martin followed silently a few steps behind.

Outside, Amanda was brought to a stop in front of a black van. The van had been heavily graffitied and looked like it was about to fall apart from age. Martin brushed past Amanda’s shoulder and stepped up to the van. With a hard yank, the side door slid opened revealing three men inside.

The van’s occupants looked up suddenly to see what was interrupted their poker game. Each of the men were similarly attired in ripped denim, leather and chains and looked more like a small motorcycle gang than a team of bodyguards.

“Boys,” Martin acknowledged them with a nod. “This is our new client.” He stepped back to reveal Amanda.

“What the hell happened to you?” the smallest of the three men asked, less than tactfully.

Amanda looked down at her dirty outfit. Her damp jeans had started to rub and the cool night air was making her shiver again. “Someone tried to kill me,” Amanda responded with a bluntness she usually reserved for her brother and drunk men trying to flirt with her. She glanced at Farah. Was she really expecting her to get into that van?

“I really need _their_ protection?” Amanda questioned, her voice low so it couldn’t be overheard.

Farah sighed, “We underestimated Kellum once, we won’t do it again.”

“But _them_?”

“I told you to trust me,” Farah reminded her. “They’re unconventional but-”

“They haven’t lost a client yet,” Amanda finished. “Yeah, I heard.”

“They have my number,” Farah reassured Amanda. “If you need me for anything.”

The pile of cigarettes, dollar bills and beer can tabs being used as poker chips was pushed to one side and the three man spread out to make space for her in the back of the van. Her tired shoulders sagged as she resigned herself to the fact that she had little choice but to put her life in their hands. It seemed like every step forward was one step further away from the life she knew.

Her eyes met Martin’s as she slowly lifted herself into the van and slid onto the nearby bench. She still wasn’t sure what to make of him. His piercing eyes and solid jaw didn’t give away much of what he was thinking, let alone feeling. Without another word, he slammed the door shut behind her and climbed into the front seat. The engine rumbled to life as Martin turned the key in the ignition and her seat began to vibrate under her. When his foot pushed down on the gas pedal, her body was pushed back against the wall of the van from the force of the acceleration.

“So do I get to know names?” she asked, drawing on her last reserves of fortitude.

“That’s Gripps,” Martin responded from behind the wheel. With his thumb he motioned back to the bearded man opposite her. “He’s Vogel,” Martin’s thumb pointed in the direction of the smallest member of the team who grinned at her widely. “And that one right there, he’s Cross.”

Amanda looked at the last of the three men being introduced at her, sitting at the far end of the van. Each of them looked dangerous in their own ways. Gripps was built like a house, strong shoulders and arms that looked like their could do a bit of damage. Vogel whilst lacking in muscles, made up for in craftiness. There was a devious glimmer in his eyes and an energy that reminded Amanda of a Jack Russell. Finally, Cross had a darkness in his eyes. He definitely had some strength to him but he was also long and lithe enough to be quick and agile. She wouldn’t want to get on their bad side, though looking at them she wondered if they even had a good side.

She was relieved to feel the heating turned up high and the warmth seeped into her stone cold bones. Her tense muscles relaxed and she leant heavily against the wall of the van. It had been late when they had been attacked and it was only getting later. The van stayed on the road for a long time, though without windows or a watch, she wasn’t sure how much time had passed.

Martin had put on some rock music a few minutes into the journey. He kept the volume down and Amanda wondered if he was keeping it low for her benefit. Either way she was grateful. A dull pain in her left temple was refusing to budge and she knew the only thing that would shift the headache would be sleep.

The van slowing to a stop woke Amanda up and she looked up at her protection detail for answers.

“Cross, stick with her,” Martin ordered before jumping out. Vogel and Gripps climbed out the back and shut the doors behind them. Amanda’s impatience grew and she huffed in frustration as minutes went by in the dark van. Finally, the side door was slid open and Martin motioned for her to get out.

“Where are we?” she asked, ignoring her muscles protesting from her feet landing on hard cement.

“Motel,” he responded. “Room’s this way.”

He walked ahead, Cross bringing up the rear as they led her to her room for the night. Amanda’s first impression of the motel was low and only got lower as she was guided into room 204. Everything in the room was different shades of brown and there was a noxious smell which she identified as a combination of stale cigarette and cheap air freshner.

Her eyes fell on the closed door at the back of the room which she knew had to lead to the bathroom. She dreaded to think what state it was in but she was too desperate for a hot shower to care. Gripping her plastic bag of gym clothes tightly in one hand, she cross the room and opened the door.

“Leave it open.”

Amanda froze with her hand on the door handle. “Are you kidding me?” she groaned and twisted her head to meet Martin’s eyes. “Not a chance.”

Martin stared back at her stubbornly. “Door ajar,” he countered.

“Door closed but I leave it unlocked, final offer,” Amanda stared him down and after a long stalemate, Martin relented and nodded.

Amanda stepped into the bathroom and shut the door sharply behind her. For the first time in hours she felt like she was able breathe again and she found herself stood rooted to the spot for a long time sucking in lungfuls of air.

Not wanting Martin or the others to barge in and wonder what was going on, Amanda turned the shower on, dialing up the heat as high as possible, peeled off her clothes and stepped into the bath. The scalding hot liquid washed away all the night’s trauma. The dirt and the blood slid down her body and she watched it disappear down the plughole. Looking down, she noticed a new bruise blooming across her ribs where Farah had dragged her out of the window. It was purple and blue and she let out a hiss when she examined it and prodded it too hard.

When the water began to cool, Amanda switched the shower off and grabbed a towel from the nearby rail. She dried herself quickly and yanked the gym clothes on to avoid cooling down too fast. Standing in front of the mirror, she gathered her wet hair up into a ponytail with a band from around her wrist. She didn’t need to see her reflection to know how bad she must look but the shower had helped her feel closer to human than she had in a while.

Martin was standing by the door when she exited the bathroom. Vogel was laid out on one of the twin beds, Gripps was sat by the door and Cross was nowhere to be seen. She assumed he was outside patrolling or something.

Catching Martin’s eyes take in her new attire, Amanda tried not to look self conscious. The grey track pants were loose and too long for her whilst the vest was on the tight side.

“First thing tomorrow you’re taking me to get something to wear,” she said firmly, making it clear it wasn’t a request.

She attempted not to think about the cleanliness of the sheets as she slid under the covers, or the three men awake in the room as she tried to sleep. With the events of the day still running through her mind, she wasn’t sure sleep would come but as soon as her head hit the pillow she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thanks to the awesome intricatecakes for checking my bad punctuation. Hope you like part two!

Amanda woke to the sound of the motel room door opening and closing and her eyes slowly adjusted to the light. Through the open blinds in the window she could make out Martin, standing with his back to the room. A moment later he let out a puff of smoke, reminding Amanda of the dull hum of nicotine craving running through her.

Cross looked up from the seat by the window as she threw back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

“Morning,” he greeted her with a nod. Amanda let out a long groan in response. She wasn’t a morning person.

Returning to the bathroom, Amanda was relieved to stare at her reflection in the mirror and and see something she recognised. The sleep had done her good. Her eyes were brighter and her skin was missing the sickly pale look from a mixture of being soaked through by the rain and lack of sleep. There was still a noticeable ache in her muscles when she moved but it was certainly an improvement. All she needed to do now was get out of the borrowed gym clothes and into something more her style. A toothbrush and some deodorant wouldn’t go amiss either.

She almost tripped over Gripps as she headed towards the exit, his long legs crossing the length of the carpet by the second bed. His eyes were transfixed on the fuzzy tv screen and she briefly wondered how on earth he could watch it with such bad reception. She wasn’t even sure what cartoon he was watching.

Stepping out into the fresh morning air, she quickly caught Martin’s attention. His head snapped around sharply and a look passed crossed his face like he was debating whether to send her back inside or not. With a quick scan, he seemed satisfied that they were alone and relaxed again.

Like he could read her mind, he pulled a battered pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket and offered the open box towards Amanda. With a grateful smile, she slid one out and brought it between her lips. Martin then retrieved his lighter and Amanda leaned in close as Martin lit her cigarette. She breathed the smoke in deeply and let it out slowly, letting the nicotine work it’s magic.

“Sleep well?” he asked.

“I slept,” she replied with a shrug. The fact that she had managed a few hours was a miracle.

Stepping out from the shadows, the rising sun sent shafts of light across Amanda’s body and warmed her skin. She remembered the summers spent at her grandparents’ house and the way the sun would force through the gap in the curtains each morning and wake her up. She wished she was back there, where everything was safe and simple and the name Kellum Knight meant nothing to her.

“You know,” she begun, staring down at the cigarette held loosely between her fingers. “That night? Little did I know that one these would result in all this… If I hadn’t gone outside that night at the club, found that alley to light up… Have you ever seen someone being killed before? Cause I have.”

Martin didn’t say anything but Amanda was beginning to get used to his silence.

“One single cigarette and here I am, on the run for my life with a bunch of strangers in leather, standing in someone else's gym clothes, staying in motels that should have been bulldozed a decade ago...”

She trailed off and let out a sigh. Silence hung in the air between them for a long moment. Amanda listened to the soft hum of the neighbouring highway and the low voices coming from the TV inside.

Finishing his cigarette, Martin stubbed it out against the wall and flicked it into a nearby drain. “There’s a thrift shop in town, we’ll pass by on our way.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, hoping he knew the gratitude was genuine.

* * *

The thrift shop was small but every rail was filled with clothes organised by type and then size. Lining one wall was two long poles, on the bottom one trousers and the top one shirts and jackets. There was a freestanding rack of long coats and dresses and there were other rails filled with shirts, skirts and shorts. Amanda wasn’t even sure where to start.

Martin had walked into the store behind her and followed her up and down the racks like a shadow as she dug into the clothes to find anything that would fit her.

“What do the others do whilst you’re protecting me?” she asked after stepping on his toes for the third time.

“They’re looking out for me,” Martin replied.

Amanda huffed out a laugh. “Sure.”

Every now and again she pulled an item of clothing off the rail and flung it over her arm. When she couldn’t hold any more, she headed for the changing room at the back which was nothing more than a small back room with a floor length mirror. The lighting was crappy and there were boxes of stock piled up against one wall.

She dumped the pile of clothes down on the floor beside her and turned to close the door, only to find Martin had followed her inside.   
  
“Seriously?” Amanda groaned. Martin stood firm. “Fine, but you have to turn around.” He raised an eyebrow at her before slowly pivoting on the spot.

Turning to face the mirror, she checked Martin wasn’t looking in the reflection and then pulled off the vest she was wearing. She could feel the warmth radiating from Martin’s body against her own and heard his even breathing as he stood solidly behind her.

She tried on each outfit, throwing the clothes that didn’t fit right into one pile and the ones that did into another. Once she had finished, she pulled on a pair of the ripped jeans she had found as well as a black band t-shirt, glad to be wearing something other than grey sportswear.  She ripped off the tags and bundled up the clothes she was keeping into her arms. Whilst she threw the tight vest away, the loose track pants would be useful for bed and she threw them into the pile of clothes to keep.

“Hope you have cash.” She pushed past Martin and out into the light of the store. “All I have is the clothes on my back and I don’t even own them.”

Martin reached into his back pocket and handed over a wad of bills to Amanda. “Spending money from Agent Black,” he explained.

As his hand touched hers, a spark of something shot up Amanda’s arm and for a brief moment she couldn’t look at him. Clearing her throat, she walked up to the counter and handed over the clothes and the ripped tags.

“I saw a pharmacy up the street, we’ll need to stop in, get some essentials,” she announced to Martin as she handed over the correct amount of bills to the cashier.

“Essentials?”

“Well I’m not going commando for a week, and I’m not planning on stinking up the van without deodorant, so yeah, essentials.”

The cashier snorted.

“Fine,” Martin growled.

She kept the visit to the pharmacy brief, chucking anything she needed into a basket without dawdling and hurried over to the till to pay. Her determined shadow kept a constant two steps behind her at all times and soon as soon as she had paid, escorted her back to the van.

Without anything to keep herself occupied, the hours on the road passed in a blur. Without windows, she couldn’t instigate a game of ISpy, there was nothing to read and no phone to play games on.The bench wasn’t comfortable either, her ass was slowly going numb.

Martin’s rock music returned, though loud enough to be heard all the way in the back. During songs he liked, he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel and nodded along. Amanda found herself nodding along to the same songs.

Just as her stomach started to rumble, the van started to decelerate and then came to a stop.

“Where are we?”

“Lunch,” Martin answered from the front and then climbed out the front. She heard his boots meeting gravel and then his footsteps around the side to open the door.

Amanda waited for the others to climb out first and was surprised by Martin waiting by the door, his hand offered towards her. She took it to steady herself as she jumped out. It was warm and calloused and then as soon as her feet hit the ground it was gone and he pulled back. Martin lead the way into the diner and chose a booth away from the window.

Amanda immediately unfolded the menu and scanned down the extensive list of items. She quickly made a mental note of what she wanted to order and hoped a waitress would appear soon. She could smell bacon and burgers and chips cooking and her stomach rumbled again.

“I swear I could eat a horse right now,” Cross rubbed his stomach as he slid into the booth beside her.

“Not on the menu, I checked,” she replied, waving the well worn menu in his direction. He laughed and stole it out of her hands with a sharp tug.

“I’ll have the next best thing, then.”

Gripps, clearly as impatient as her, flagged down a waitress on her way past and began listing out his food order, enough to feed all five of them. Once they had all ordered, the waitress disappeared back behind the counter.

“So,” Amanda began, tapping a fingernail against the table. “How did you guys meet?”

The guys glanced at each other.

“Come on, there must be some kind of story… how the hell did you get into the protection business?”

“Well, me and Martin? We go way back,” Cross explained, throwing an arm over Martin’s shoulders in a friendly gesture. “We spent most of our misspent youth in detention together.”

“ _Shocking,_ ” Amanda laughed.

“Not really sure how Gripps and Vogel joined the gang, I think they just turned up one day and never left.”

“Somethin’ like that,” Martin agreed.

“Tell her _The Story,_ Cross.” Gripps encouraged.

“ _The Story_?” Amanda sat up. Now she was interested.

“She doesn’t need to hear that,” Martin groaned.

“Of course she does,” Cross insisted, a wide grin splitting his face. “So, this story is about Martin, a warehouse fire, and a foam cannon.”

“This I have to hear.”

“The year was 2002. Imagine a younger Martin, a _more handsome_ Martin-”

Martin elbowed Cross in the ribs.

“Okay, okay!” Cross held his hands up in surrender “He was younger, fewer tattoos, a whole lot less _blonde.”_

“Cross,” Martin warned.

“Shh, I’m tellin’ a story here!”

Amanda laughed.

“Anyway, we’re hanging around by the docks because we were punks with nothing better to do than hang around the docks and out of nowhere this warehouse explodes, knocks us both off our feet.”

Cross’ story is paused when the waitress returns with their drinks. Amanda took the strawberry milkshake from the tray and gulped down a couple of mouthfuls. When she looked up, Vogel was staring back at her with an amused expression. Finally he motioned to his top lip and then at her. Her face went red as she grabbed a serviette out of the holder and wiped away her pink moustache.

“What happened next?” she asked, quickly moving the conversation back to _The Story_.

“Well, I wanted to get the hell out of dodge, but this idiot heard someone calling for help inside and walked straight into the burning building.”

Amanda’s jaw dropped “Seriously?” Her eyes flicked towards Rowdy 3’s leader but his eyes avoided hers.

“ _Seriously,_ ” Cross confirmed. “Dumbass nearly got himself killed going in there. Someone else must have been there ‘cause I start hearing sirens getting louder. I run out and flag then down, let them know my idiot friend was inside and they start blasting the building with their brand spanking new foam cannon.”

“And?”

“Well it seems to be doing the trick, the fire is slowly going out. In the meantime, Martin has found the guy inside the building, pinned under a beam and somehow manages to get him out. The foam suppresses the fire enough for him to drag the guy out like some kind of superhero. Though of course the foam has got everywhere and Martin appears from the smoke covered head to toe in the bubbles, some firefighter had to hose him down!”

Amanda laughed so hard her stomach ached. “Oh my God!”

“City wanted to give him a medal after that, which he refused.”

“I didn’t do it for-”

“I know, I know,” Cross nudged him. “But it inspired Rowdy 3 and well, here we are.”

“So that’s _The Story,_ ” Amanda smiled at the both. Finally Martin met her eyes and sent her a look she couldn’t yet decipher. She was definitely seeing a different side of him and she didn’t want to face what she felt about that, not at that precise moment.

“That’s _The Story,_ ” Cross confirmed with a nod.

As _The Story_ ended, the waitress brought over their food and lunch began. Amanda practically inhaled the burger she had ordered, followed by her ketchup covered fries.

“You know, Boss, I think she needs a code name,” Vogel suggested, though it took Amanda a minute to figure out what he was saying through the mouthful of food.

“Yeah?” Martin glanced between the two of them.

Amanda frowned. “A code name?”

“It’s safer, y’know, anyone in here could be working for Kellum, we call your name and they know you’re here,” Gripps explained.

“Fine,” She sighed, “Give me a code name.”

Martin thought about it for a moment and then smiled. “Drummer.”

“Drummer?” she repeated.

He tapped out a beat against the table, just like she had the night they met. “Drummer,” He confirmed.

A pleasant shiver ran down her back at the new name. All of a sudden, she wasn’t Amanda, witness with a target on her back, now she was Drummer who wore thrift shop clothes and travelled around the country in a van. She could dream at least, even for a moment.

“Okay, out of the way, boys, I need to go.”

“Go where?” the always on duty Martin asked.

“The ladies room,” she replied. Martin and Cross slid out of the booth to let her out. When Martin tried to follow, Amanda stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Martin, we’re in the middle of nowhere, it’s the ladies room, you really think I’m going to be killed in there?” Martin wasn’t convinced. “Look, you can see the door to the bathrooms from here, I’ll shout if I need you.” She pushed him back gently and he grumbled under his breath but let her go.

The bathroom was empty when she walked in and she relaxed slightly as she stepped into a cubicle and relieved herself. Exiting the cubicle, she crossed the room to the row of sinks and began washing her hands.

She didn’t hear the door open and close, or the footsteps coming up behind her, not until it was too late.

Amanda’s eyes snapped up to look up in the mirror and all the air left her lungs when her eyes fell on the man standing behind her with a chilling grin on his face. She spun around, her heart thumping heavily in her chest. There wasn’t time to shout for help, the man moved fast, wrapping his hands around her throat and throwing her back so hard against the mirror it cracked. The sink dug painfully into her hips and her feet struggled to gain purchase on the tiles below her.

As she struggled to breath in vital oxygen, her hands grabbing weakly at the man’s strong arms holding her in place, her vision started to blur.

She was fucked.


	3. Chapter 3

As her body weakened her grip on the man’s arm dropped, a heavy force barreled into her attacker and almost threw him across the bathroom. Amanda sucked in air in one heaving gasp and dropped to the floor in a heap. 

Her eyes slowly focused again and fell upon Martin tussling with the man who had tried to kill her. There was a crash as the man gained the upper hand briefly and threw Martin into a cubicle door, forcing it off its hinges and then he was yanked across the room, landing head first into a mirror. As Martin pulled away, shards of mirror follow and she could see blood where his head had connected. The man’s knee came up into Martin’s ribs and she winced at the sound Martin made. 

Martin didn’t let the man get another hit in. Swinging hard and fast, his fist collided the man’s jaw and Amanda was pretty sure she saw teeth flying. With a kick to his knees, her attacker was forced back to the ground and another kick had the man lying on his front, his face pushed painfully into the tiles. Martin twisted one of the attacker’s arms tightly behind his back and pressed his boot down on the man’s other hand. The man cried out in pain. 

Amanda watched on silently, still getting precious oxygen back into her body, as Martin grabbed a handful of the man’s hair and pulled it back. 

“Who are you?” He demanded. The man didn’t reply. “Who do you work for?”

The man laughed, his blood-stained grin sent a chill down Amanda’s spine. “Who the fuck do you think I work for?” He spat out. 

“Kellum,” Amanda answered, her voice hoarse. 

"There are others coming, he’s not going to stop until you’re in the fucking ground, girl,” he snarled

Martin didn’t let him say anything else. With a snarl, he slammed the man’s face down hard into the tiles and the man went limp. 

Amanda sagged heavily against the cold wall behind her and wished she could curl up into a ball somewhere and forget the world for as long as she possibly could. Martin, however, wouldn’t let her. 

“Come on, Drummer.” He bent down and lifted her roughly to her feet. “We gotta go.”

Somehow Amanda was able to put one foot in front of the other, with the help of the strong arm wrapped around her waist, and walk out of the diner. The van was right outside, the engine rumbling and Cross sat in the driver’s seat. Martin helped Amanda into the back and closed the door behind the both. As soon as the door clicked shut, Cross pushed his foot down on the gas and they got out of there as fast as the van could go. 

When Cross seemed satisfied that they were far enough away and that no-one had followed them, he found another motel and pulled in. The sun had already started to set and the neon sign glowed brightly against the dark trees that surrounded the building. 

Once again, Amanda waited inside the van for the others to pay for the room and for Vogel and Cross to come and escort her. 

The room was equally as crappy as the last with peeling paint and suspicious stains on the carpet. There was also a regular thump of furniture meeting the wall from the room next door that Amanda didn’t want to think about too hard. She threw her new bag of clothes and toiletries onto the bag and sighed. 

She didn’t notice Martin until he was by her side. He towered over her, but instead of feeling intimidated, it left Amanda feeling safe. Slowly, he lifted his hand and stroked the bruises blooming across her neck. She shivered, surprised by his gentle touch. 

“You okay?” He asked. 

“I think so,” she replied honestly. “What about you?”

“Had worse.” 

Amanda rolled her eyes, she had seen the hits he had taken. “Let me be the judge of that.” 

She herded him into the bathroom, flipped the toilet lid down and pushed him down onto it so she could examine his head. The blood from his cut had stained his bleached hair around the injury so it looked worse than it was but Amanda still insisted he sat still so she could clean the wound. Martin stayed stock still as she shuffled into position between his legs and wiped the drying blood away with a wet flannel.

“Doesn’t look like it needs stitches,” she decided. “Not that I know shit about these kinds of things.”

Martin sighed. “I’m the one supposed to be looking after you, not the other way round.” 

“I thought you were supposed to be looking  _ out _ for me?”

“What’s the difference?” He questioned and Amanda didn’t have an answer. “I’m sorry,” he said a moment later. 

Amanda froze. “Why?”

“I’m tasked with protecting you, Drummer, I wasn’t there.”

Amanda dropped the bloody flannel in the sink and sat down on the edge of the bath. “Well, then I’m sorry too, ‘cause I was stupid enough to think I didn’t need you.”

Martin smirked. “Guess we’re even, then.”

Amanda smiled back. “Guess we are.” She rose from her seat and walked back over to him. “Thank you, by the way, you kicked that jerk’s ass.”

She liked the way his smirk spread into a real grin that reached his eyes. “Anytime.”

On exiting the bathroom, she almost collided with Gripps who pushed a cell phone into her hand. “It’s a burner,” he explained. “Black’s number is on speed dial.”

“Thanks.”

Amanda made herself comfortable on one of the beds, her back resting against the headboard and called the number. 

Farah picked up after two rings. “Amanda, are you okay?” she asked immediately. 

“I’ve had worse,” she found herself repeating Martin’s earlier words. “Don’t worry, Martin was there, he got me out.”

“Good,” Amanda heard Farah’s sigh of relief. “We have the guy in custody, he’s not talking but we used his phone to trace his whereabouts, looks like he was following you since yesterday at the office. He was just waiting to get you alone, it looks like.”

“Seriously?” The idea that she had been followed that whole time, waiting for a chance to kill her sent a chill down her spine. “How many more times is someone gonna try and kill me, Farah?

“Amanda-”

“Am I ever going to be safe?”

“Of course you are!” Farah insisted, “Once Kellum is behind bars, he’s not going to have access to his people like he does now and you’ll be somewhere he can’t find you with a whole new identity.”

Amanda had forgotten that part. She hadn’t really prepared herself for being forced to start over again somewhere new with a new name to boot. She looked up as Martin left the bathroom and her eyes followed him as he stepped outside and lit up. 

“You promise?” 

“I promise, in a few days this will all be over.”

Amanda wished she could believe it. She ended the call and chucked the phone on the other bed. 

“All good?” Cross asked. 

Amanda slid down the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “Not even close, Cross.”

Vogel and Gripps disappeared a few minutes later and returned half an hour after that with four pizza boxes each. Amanda picked at the pepperoni on her pizza for a bit and then pushed it towards the ravenous boys. She didn’t have much of an appetite and her throat ached. 

Even though it was still early in the evening, Amanda needed sleep. Shucking off her jeans, she slid under the covers, turned her back on her protection team and fell asleep. 

_ Amanda’s eyes snapped open and widened as she saw Kellum was standing over her, gun in hand and a menacing grin on his face. She tried to shout for help but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. She tried to move but she was paralyzed, unable to move from the bed.  _

_ “No-one can help you now,” he laughed.  _

_ The panic inside her grew as her eyes fell on Farah, slumped against the wall, a bullet wound in her chest. Behind Kellum lay Vogel, Cross, and Gripps, lifeless and covered in blood. _

_ Her eyes flicked to movement at the door, just in time to see Martin kick the door down. She wanted to scream at him and tell him to go but instead she watched helplessly as Kellum turned the gun on him and pulled the trigger without hesitation. He looked down in shock at the blood soaking his shirt and his knees buckled under him. Kellum laughed and shot him again, a headshot which killed him instantly. Amanda felt the tears rolling down her cheeks.  _

_ The gun aimed back at her. “Your turn now.” Amanda’s eyes slammed shut.  _

_ Bang! _

Amanda sat up in bed with a gasp, her breathing shallow and quick. As her eyes adjusted to the low light, she looked down where Farah had been killed and was relieved to see nothing but crappy carpet. Turning her head she saw Vogel, Gripps, and Cross asleep on the other bed and Martin, alive in a chair by the window. He was looking back at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Fucking nightmares,” she croaked and fell back against the bed. Her mouth was dry and she pulled her hands into tight fists to stop them shaking.

She heard Martin rise from his seat and walk past her into the bathroom. The tap ran briefly and then he was lowering himself down on the edge of her bed, offering a glass of water in her direction. 

Shifting into a seated position, she took the glass and gulped it all down. “Thanks.” 

Amanda glanced up at Martin, sitting silently beside her. She was starting to get used to Martin preferring action over words. Within a short amount of time together, he had figured her out and knew what she needed, whether it was a glass of water or just his quiet presence. She wondered if he was like this with other women he had protected and then hated herself for the jealousy that bubbled up inside her. Her eyes travelled along the sharp collar bones peeking out from under his vest and down the solid lines of his biceps. She’d seen his strength first had and wondered where he’d learnt to fight like that.

“Hey,” she called out and he looked over at her questioningly. “Can you teach me? How to fight, I mean?”

Martin didn’t say anything straight away. His head tilted to one side and he considered her request thoughtfully. “Why?”

She frowned. “Why not?” 

“Tell me,” he insisted. 

“I just….” Her eyes rose to the ceiling and focused on a long crack in the plaster. “I need to be  _ stronger. _ ”

Stronger than what, Amanda didn’t know. She just knew that she was tired of feeling helpless, tired of having to be saved like a damned damsel. 

“Okay.”

Surprised by Martin’s agreement, Amanda’s wide eyes met his to make sure he was serious. “Okay?”

“Tomorrow,” he promised.

* * *

 

In the morning they ate cold leftover pizza and piled back into the van before the sun had fully risen in the sky. 

“Can I sit in the front?” Amanda asked. The empty passenger seat was calling her name. 

Martin snorted. “Not a chance.” He immediately started up the engine, ending the conversation. Vogel sniggered at her pout. 

“Got a long stretch of road ahead of us,” Cross reminded her. 

Amanda’s eyebrow arched. “And what do you suggest we do to pass the time?”

Cross, Gripps and Vogel looked at each other and then back at her. “How are your poker skills?”

She heard Martin’s chuckle from the front and her eyes narrowed. “Why do I feel like I’m about to be swindled?”

Hiding her smile, she didn’t tell them she’d been playing poker since she was twelve. Her brother Todd and his friends had let her hang out with them during the summer when he bedtime was an hour later than normal. They would sit out on the steps and play for candy. Amanda got so good she ended up with three cavities and a regular stomach ache. 

By the time they passed through three major towns, Amanda had won the last four hands and was building up quite the pile of cigarettes. Looking up, she met Martin’s eyes in the rear view mirror and she sent him a pleased look that had him shaking his head. 

Eventually they stopped at a gas station to restock the van. Amanda stayed hidden in the back as Martin filled the tank and the others headed inside for unhealthy snacks. They returned with armfuls of chips, chocolate, and soda, and a hungry Amanda reached for it all immediately. 

They traveled for another few hours, putting as much road behind them as possible, before stopping. There was still a few more hours of daylight left and Martin navigated them to an open plot of land, out of sight from the main road. The land looked abandoned and forgotten with rusting cars piled up and pieces of junk lost to the tall grass. A shed stood in one corner looking like a strong wind could knock it over and fence posts once keeping everything out now lay horizontal on the ground. 

“What are we stopping for?” Cross asked as he jumped out the back. 

“Drummer here wants to learn a few moves,” Martin explained. “Now’s as good a time as any.”

Gripps rubbed his hands together. “Oh, this should be fun.” He found a comfortable position on the bumper of one of the cars to view the action. 

Amanda was suddenly nervous. She wasn’t prepared for an audience. “Now?”

“Now,” Martin nodded. “I made a promise.” With a hand on each of her shoulders, he maneuvered her into position in a soft patch of grass. “Okay, first things first, you wanna go for the soft parts, eyes, nose-”

“Junk?” she suggested, her mouth twisting into a smirk. 

Martin matched her smirk with his own. “That, too.”

She didn’t miss Cross rolling his eyes. “ _ Oh, brother,” _ he muttered under his breath. 

“I’m gonna come at you, you’re gonna, block with your left,” Martin slowly approached Amanda. He lifted her left arm to show her what he wanted her to do. “With your right, you’re gonna hit me in the face, aim for the nose, in and up.”

“You want me to what?”

He rolled his eyes. “Trust me, okay?”

Amanda swallowed hard, the light hearted mood suddenly had a more serious tone.

“I do,” she replied, making sure she looked him in the eye. She wasn’t one to trust easily, her relationship with her brother had seen to that. Whilst she loved him, she didn’t always like Todd and the web of lies he got himself and her twisted up in. 

“Okay.” He nodded and backed up a few steps. “Ready?”

She rolled her shoulders and narrowed her eyes at him. “Come at me.”

He didn’t move straight away and Amanda opened her mouth to hurry him up but then he moved, his body lunged towards her at speed. He was almost too quick for her to react but she threw her left arm up into the air and somehow she blocked his arm. She flattened out her right hand and pushed it hard into Martin’s face. Somehow, he pulled back enough not to get the full brunt of Amanda’s blow and instead looked down at her with a grin plastered across his face. 

“Not bad, Drummer, not bad at all.”

Amanda laughed, her body humming with adrenaline. She hadn’t expected to like the thrill of it all so much. “Again?”

“Again….this time, I want you to kick your leg up, too.”

“Okay, but this is gonna hurt,” she warned him. 

He rolled his eyes as he once again took a few steps back and gave Amanda time to ready herself. He launched at her a moment later and she once again blocked his arm and slammed her other hand towards his face. When she lifted her right foot to kick Martin in the groin, she felt Martin push forward and a moment later she was falling backwards. As she landed on her ass, the air was forced out of her lungs. When she got her breath back, Martin was standing over her. 

“You okay there, Drummer?” Whilst he sounded concerned, there was a mischievous gleam in his eyes. 

“You did that on purpose,” she grumbled, but took the offered hand and let him lift her back to her feet. 

“Gotta learn somehow,” he told her “You lost your balance ‘cause you lifted your dominant foot.” He nudged her right foot with his left. “You fight people with more weight than you, you gotta stay grounded, use your lower centre of gravity.”

“You’re not bad at this, you know.”

“Fighting?”

She shook her head. “Teaching.” 

As the sun slowly dropped, Martin showed a few more moves. How to defend herself when being attacked from behind, how to escape a chokehold, and more. For some of the training, Martin roped in Vogel so he could easily direct Amanda’s movements and Amanda could tell she was improving bit by bit. 

When it was too dark to see anything and Amanda’s muscles ached from exertion, they piled back into the van and continued down the road until they found another motel. Amanda climbed straight into bed, her body heavy with exhaustion. Her mind however buzzed as she played back every move she had made, every kick and punch, and it left her grinning madly. 

“Hey, Martin?”  
  
“Yeah, Drummer?”

“Let’s do that again, okay?”

“Okay.”


	4. Chapter 4

Amanda stared up at the ceiling, her tired eyes refusing to close. Her legs were twisted up in the sheets from tossing and turning and the pillow felt like a rock under her head. No matter how much she tried, she just couldn’t sleep. The knowledge that in less than forty eight hours, it would all be over ran through her head. 

It felt like no time at all before Martin and the others would be escorting her to the courthouse. It left her with not much time to figure out what the hell she was going to say in court and resolve herself to the new life she would be living after it was all over. A new life she didn’t even want. Farah would be meeting her there and would then be handing her off to a couple of US Marshals with the witness protection programme. 

Twisting her neck, she looked over to the other bed, occupied by Gripps and Cross. Vogel had fallen asleep on the floor between the two beds and was snoring heaving into his bunched up jacket whilst Martin was in the chair, his head had dropped forward and his breathing had leveled out into a soothing rise and fall. 

In the week she had spent with these men, she wasn’t used to seeing them so quiet and calm. She had grown fond of their liveliness and humour. Even when in protection mode, they made sure to smile and keep her spirits up. Somehow, they had managed to help her forget about the crappy hand life had recently dealt her and instead had made her feel a part of the team rather than a damsel in distress.

On long stretches of road, she got to know each them. She learnt how Cross had been a mechanic before being roped into Martin’s protection business and was the only thing keeping the beat-up van on the road for so long. She spent time with Gripps, laughing at his silly jokes and hearing about the pranks he loved to play on the others. He painted her nails green to match his own. Vogel, she discovered was older than he looked, older than her even. From reading between the lines, Amanda guessed his relationship with his parents had broken down and Rowdy 3 protection was the closest thing he had to family. 

The longer she spent with them, the more she understood the familial bond they had. The way they worked together so smoothly, sometimes it was like they read each other’s minds, working as one unit rather than four separate people. Even though she had known them for a short amount of time, Amanda realised just how much she would miss them when she was gone, especially Martin, and her chest hurt from the thought. 

She untwisted the sheets and quietly lifted herself off the bed, checking every now and again that she hadn’t woken the others up. Tiptoeing across the room, she picked up Martin’s leather jacket from the back of the spare chair.The jacket smelt like Martin and she couldn’t help but press her nose into it. She slid her arms into the sleeves and pulled the oversized jacket around herself. Digging into the pockets, she found what she was after and wrapped her hands around the lighter in the left and cigarette box in the right. 

Taking one last glance back at her sleeping bodyguards, Amanda opened the front door and stepped out into the cool night air. 

She only managed to get halfway through her first cigarette when she heard movement from inside the room and then Martin calling her name. The door swung open and Martin burst through the threshold, his eyes searching for her. 

When his eyes found her, stood against the railings he swore, “Drummer, you can’t  _ do _ that!” he admonished her. “You wake one of us if you go anywhere.”

Amanda sent him a sheepish look. “Sorry.” she turned her gaze back to the parking lot below her, everything glowed orange from the streetlights. After a moment, she felt Martin close the distance between them and rest his arms on the railing beside her. 

“Gonna give me one?” 

Amanda dug into the jacket pocket and handed over his lighter and cigarettes which he took with a nod. He lit one up and took a drag. 

“Suits you, y’know.”

“Hmm?”

“My jacket.” Amanda ducked her head and tried not to blush at the compliment.  “What are you doing out here anyway?” 

Amanda shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Martin nodded in understanding. “Wanna talk?”

“Not really.” Amanda brought her cigarette back to her lips, inhaled and blew the smoke out into the air. She tried to ignore the feeling of Martin’s eyes burning into her but he soon wore her down and she slumped against the railings, “I’m scared,” she admitted. 

“We’re gonna get you to the courthouse, I promise.”

“No,” Amanda shook her head, “It’s not that… I’m scared of starting over, having a new name and being in a new place...being on my own.” Martin shifted beside her but kept silent as she talked. “You know it was me and my brother for so long. He’s a grumpy ass but he’s all I have….haven’t spoken to him since the incident, I think he must be relieved that I’m gone so he doesn’t have to deal with how disappointed I am any more.” She took another puff on the cigarette. “Still want to speak to him, though, how screwed up is that?

“Drummer-”

“It’s okay,” Amanda stubbed out her cigarette and turned towards Martin who mirrored her actions. “You don’t have to try and come up with something to say.” 

“Hey.” Her eyes flicked up to meet his. He looked back at her with the same expression she’d seen directed at her a few times since beginning their road trip. Until now, she had been unable to figure out what the look meant but all of a sudden it was clear. It was the same expression she knew was on her face and had been more and more since she had gotten to know Martin. 

Over seven days, he had gone from the man she thought was there to kill her to the man she knew would keep her safe. He was strong and quiet and stupidly stubborn yet she’d experienced his gentleness and his ability to comfort her just with his presence. After witnessing a murder and nearly being killed herself had left her cold and numb, Martin made her feel again.

Slowly, she shuffled closer until they were almost touching and rose up onto her toes to give herself some height. When he didn’t move away, she placed her hand around the back of his neck to steady herself and then lifted her head to be level with Martin’s. His breath was warm against her cold face and she could feel his pulse thump against her fingers. 

Before their lips could meet, Martin blinked and pulled away. Amanda’s heels dropped back to the ground and she felt her face go red. “Sorry...I thought-”

“I can’t, not when I’m-”

“Protecting me,” Amanda finished. Her stomach dropped as she realised what it meant. Until his job was over, he would stay professional and after...she would be gone. Her life officially sucked. 

His hand lifted to cup her cheek and she leant into it. “You gotta know, Drummer...”

She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah.”

“ _ Yeah. _ ” 

Amanda pushed down the smile he brought out of her reluctantly. “I should go back inside.”

“Okay.”

Amanda pulled away from Martin and brushed past him on her way back to the room. Stopping in the doorway, she turned to face him again. “I’m sorry again, for sneaking out...I just, wanted some control...wanted to not feel so powerless for a bit.” 

Martin’s eyebrow arched at her admission. “Well, why didn’t you say so.” He spurred into action, striding towards her and then around, ducking back into the room. Heading straight for the bed, he whacked Gripps on the leg, doing the same to Cross. “Wake up boys!” he called out loudly. As they groaned and stirred, he walked around the bed and prodded Vogel with his shoe. “Rise and shine.”

“What are you doing?” Amanda asked. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she watched the second hand pass over the hour hand, frozen over the number two. 

“We’re going out,” he answered, returning to Gripps and Cross to make sure they were awake. Cross glared at Martin but rose from the bed and began pushing his feet into his boots at the end of the bed. 

They got dressed for the cold air and followed Martin out to the van. It was silent out in the parking lot, every other occupant of the motel was asleep and the road beside it was empty. It made Amanda’s footsteps feel loud and she winced as Martin unlocked the van and slid open the side door. She hoped they didn’t wake anyone up. 

The others seemed just as in the dark as she was as they climbed inside and made themselves comfortable in the back. 

“Where are we going?” she questioned, sliding up to the the space on the bench nearest the front of the van. Curtains and chains blocked her view into the front where Martin was sitting but she liked being close. 

“Somewhere where we can let off a little steam,” he replied. His response seemed to be enough of an answer for the others who all grinned. 

“Oh yeah!” Vogel cried, a look of glee across his face. He was almost jumping in his seat with excitement “It’s been too long Boss.”

They drove around for a bit, Amanda not sure what Martin was looking for. Her tired eyes were now wide and alert and the excited atmosphere in the van was contagious. She felt the van turn left and start to slow down before stopping completely. 

“Yes!” Cross jumped out of the van almost instantly with Gripps and Vogel hot on his trail. When Amanda peered out, she saw they had parked in some kind of junkyard or dumping ground. There were cars with pieces missing everywhere she looked, some piled on top of each other, as well as old fridges, rusted sheets of iron and other bits of scrap scattered across the ground. 

Amanda jumped out of the van and looked at Martin. “What are we doing here?” She heard a crash and snapped her neck in its direction. Witnessing Cross jumping on top of a car she glanced at Martin and then back at Cross who had found a metal rod and was beating the shit out of the vehicle below him. 

“We deal with some shit on the job,” Martin began to explain. “This is how we deal.” 

He reached into the passenger seat and retrieved a worn baseball bat. Without hesitating, he neared another nearby car and jumped onto the trunk. She watched as he held the bat with both hands, lifting it into the air like was about to hit a ball being pitched at him. Instead, the bat curved downwards sharply and smashed into the last intact window. Through his shirt she could see the way his back muscles worked as he moved gracefully and as the bat met glass, the destruction was gratifying. 

Martin howled as the glass went everywhere and he swung the bat around in his hand. Like a wolf calling his pack, the others howled back. With a pleased look on his face, he turned and looked at Amanda who still stood unsure beside the van. He lifted the bat, pointing it in her direction and dropped down off the car. 

Walking towards her, he flipped the bat around, offering her the handle. “Me?” 

He nodded. “Go on.” She took the bat and stepped up to the car. ”Hurt it,” he instructed. 

Amanda hadn’t played baseball since grade school but the memories returned and she held the bat like she had been taught. The bat felt heavy in her grip but she lifted it with ease as she rolled her shoulders and pulled back. With everything she had, she swung, the bat colliding with the wing mirror and snapping it clean off. It landed on the ground, rolling a few times before stopping beside a stack of tyres. Shards of glass flew and landed in the ground around it. 

Adrenaline flowed through her body, the thrill of destroying something spreading through her, and she lifted her bat to do it again. She slammed the bat into the car door again and again until paint flecked off and silver dents appeared. All the anger she had built up quickly released into each swing. She imagined it was Kellum she was hitting again and again, beating the creepy smile off his face. 

“Drummer.” 

Amanda heard Martin but she couldn’t stop. There was too much anger inside her, too much frustration. She understood why they did this, she had never felt so free and powerful. Her hands started to hurt but she swung again.

“Drummer!” he tried again, his voice louder and she knew he had stepped up beside her. Suddenly he was pressed up against her back and his hands were on hers, stilling them. “It’s okay,” he said softly against her ear. With nothing left inside her, she sagged back against him and he held her up easily, his arm sliding around her waist to help keep her upright. 

“It’s really not,” she replied weakly. With her teeth gritted to stop herself from falling apart, she let Martin take the bat from her red hands and guide her back to the van. 

“It will be,” he promised.

Amanda let Martin lift her back inside and as soon as she was on the bench, she lowered herself down to lie across the length of it. When the others returned from their demolition, she was asleep. She didn’t hear them climb in or the van start up. Somehow she slept through the rumble of the engine and the tight turns through the quiet streets as well as Martin carrying her from the van and back into their room. He placed her back down onto her bed and lifted the sheets over her unconscious body.  


	5. Chapter 5

Amanda’s muscles ached as she climbed into the van once again. The previous night’s activities had been cathartic and she felt better for it. It was just a shame she had to feel so crap as a result. Rubbing her tired eyes, she dropped her head onto Gripps’ shoulder.

“Why the hell was I dragged out of bed at the asscrack of dawn when we’re only an hour away from the city?” she grumbled. 

“Boss man’s orders,” Gripps replied. 

Amanda muttered under her breath, stopping when Martin climbed into the front. The memory of an almost kiss hit her followed by the faint recollection of Martin carrying her. It was going to be hard to spend an entire day in his presence knowing that she wanted him, and the he wanted her too and not being able to do anything about it. She understood his need to keep things professional but it sucked that she had fallen for a guy who knew she’d never see again. 

They drove for a good hour, Amanda unsure where Martin was taking her. He made turns almost randomly, taking three lefts in a row, then a right, followed by another couple of lefts. It felt more like he was trying to shake a tail and for the hundredth time she wondered where the hell he was taking her. 

The final five minutes was on uneven ground and Amanda had to hold on to her seat as they were all thrown around the back. As the van dropped into a hole, her ass landed heavily on the bench and pain shot up her spine. She hissed and bit her lip so hard she was surprised it didn’t start bleeding. 

She met Cross’ eyes from across the van and he nodded his head in Martin’s direction before rolling his eyes. Amanda huffed out a laugh in response. 

The van came to a sudden stop and Amanda watched the others jump out of the van first before shuffling out herself. Looking around, Amanda took in the small clearing Martin had brought them to, surrounded by trees as far as the eye could see. They were tall and imposing and Amanda felt safe in their circle, like they were shielding her from the outside world. It was quiet too, the regular hum of traffic she had become accustomed too gone and Amanda felt a calmness settle over her. 

“Why are we here?”

She heard the schnick of a lighter and looked over at Martin, leaning against a tree. He let out a long breath of smoke and looked over at her. “Would you rather spend the day cooped up in the motel?” 

Amanda shuddered at the thought. “God, no.”

“Then enjoy the freedom, Drummer.”

She hadn’t noticed the others pulling boxes off the roof rack and dumping them on the ground, working in well practised movements. The boxes were arranged in a semicircle and then Vogel and Gripps disappeared into the treeline. 

“C’mon, Drummer,” Cross called over, patting one of the boxes beside him. “Put your feet up.” Cross smiled at her when she sat herself down on the the box. “Soon as we have some wood we’ll start a bonfire.” Gripps and Vogel’s disappearance suddenly made sense. 

“Sounds like you’ve done this before.”

“When we can.” Cross shrugged. “We might have some marshmallows in one these boxes, and-” He rose to dig into the box below him and retrieved a six pack of beer. “Beer!” Unhooking one, he was about to crack it open when he caught Martin’s glare. “Which I can’t drink when on duty,” he sighed and handed it over to Amanda. 

“Sucks to be you.” The can hissed when Amanda opened it and brought it to her smiling lips. 

A startled bird flew out of a tree and Amanda watched as it crossed the clearing. “It’s so peaceful out here.” 

“With all the safe houses, motels and time spent in that damn van, it’s these moments I look forward to,” Cross admitted. 

Amanda nudged him with her shoulder. “I can understand that.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What do you look forward to?”

Amanda opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. She wasn’t sure she knew the answer. Her eyes flicked over to Martin who was still stood underneath the tree, too far away to hear their conversation. She didn’t have much to look forward to in the next twenty four hours and after that she didn’t know what her life would be like. 

“I’m...I’m looking forward to seeing that asshole get what he deserves,” she decided. 

“Damn straight.” Cross nodded. 

She brought the can back to her lips and took another gulp of the lukewarm liquid. The beer wasn’t strong enough to do much more than give her a pleasant buzz which was more than enough for her. With the others staying sober, she didn’t want to get wasted anyway. 

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she looked up to find Gripps and Vogel walking back towards them, each carrying armfulls of wood, picked up from the forest floor. The wood was arranged into a pyre, with smaller twigs and bundles of leaves in the middle. Once it was ready, Martin rejoined the group and lit the leaves with his lighter. The bonfire caught quickly and soon Amanda’s face was hot from the flames licking up the propped up wood.

When she looked around for Martin, she frowned when she spotted him hidden behind the van, the burner phone pressed against his ear. He glanced over in her direction briefly and she wondered if he was talking about her, but he was too far away for her to hear what he was saying or who he was saying it to. 

“Hey, you want your second lesson in how to kick ass?” Cross asked and Amanda returned her attention to the other members of Rowdy 3 protection. 

“ _ You _ ?” 

Cross gasped in mock indignation. “Yeah, me.” 

Amanda barked out a laugh. “I’m sorry.”

“So you should be.” Cross swiped the beer can from her hand and placed it on the ground by his feet. “Wanna learn how to fight smart? Go to Martin. If you wanna learn how to fight  _ dirty, _ you come to me, got it?”

Amanda forced her smile down and nodded seriously. “Got it.”

Cross jumped up and offered both hands towards Amanda. Sliding her hands into his, she let him pull her up to her feet. He lead her over to a patch of grass a few feet away from the fire and moved her into position. 

“If this is going to involve biting…” she warned. 

“Oh ye of little faith,” he replied and Amanda laughed again. “Okay, first rule, everything within reach is a weapon.”

Amanda was surprised to discover that Cross was just as good a teacher as Martin. He complimented the moves Martin had taught her with a few of his own including plenty of distraction techniques and a few other soft spots that would cause a lot of pain. 

Halfway through the training session, Martin had joined the others, watching from the bonfire. It was hard not to be distracted by the dark look in his eyes as he watched her intensely and she ended up on the ground a couple of times because of it.  

“Okay,” Amanda groaned as she fell down once again. “Enough.” Cross yanked her back up and slung an arm over her shoulders. 

“Not bad, Drummer, a few more lessons and you’ll be a badass.”

Amanda scoffed. “Excuse me? I’m already a badass.” 

Cross threw his head back and laughed. “Fair enough.”

Sitting back down by the fire, Amanda picked up her beer and gulped down the leftovers. 

“Smoke?” Martin offered and she nodded back. Taking a cigarette from the box he held in her direction, she placed it in her mouth and then leant into his personal space as he flicked his lighter on. 

When her cigarette was lit she moved back and took a drag. “Thanks, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For today...this is nice.”

Martin gave a sharp nod in return. 

She looked around the clearing, checking to make sure the others were out of earshot before she sighed. “About last night-”

“It’s okay, Drummer.” 

Amanda stared down at the cigarette held between her fingers as it slowly burned down. “Okay as in, forget it ever happened?”

Amanda regretted asking when Martin didn’t respond straight away. A moment later, she felt him shift closer until his side was pressed up against hers. “If things were different-”

“Yeah?”

A shiver went down her spine when he leant in and his lips brushed against her ear. His breath was warm against her skin. “If things were different, we wouldn’t still be talking.” 

All of a sudden it felt like she was too hot, the heat from the bonfire overwhelming. By the look in his eyes when he pulled away, she was pretty sure he knew just how much he affected her. “Good to know,” she uttered. 

A shrill ring interrupted their moment and Martin dug into his pocket to pull out the burner phone. “I gotta take this.”

She watched him get up and answer the phone and she frowned as he walked far enough away to be out of earshot. Whatever the conversation was about, he didn’t want her knowing about it and she hated being left out of the loop. 

She didn’t have long to wait to find out. After an hour of Martin disappearing off to make mysterious phone calls, a black SUV with blacked out windows pulled up beside the van. Fearing the worst, Amanda got up and backed away, almost walking back into Martin. 

“It’s okay,” he told her, holding her steady to prevent her from falling. 

Amanda watched as the door to the driver’s side opened and a familiar face appeared. “Farah?” She walked towards the SUV slowly. “What are you doing here?”

“Doing that one over there a huge favour it seems,” said Farah, nodding in Martin’s direction. 

Amanda spun to face Martin. “What’s this all about?”

Martin nodded back to Farah and Amanda returned to face her. Farah smiled as she walked around the car and opened the passenger seat door, revealing another familiar face. Amanda’s jaw dropped. 

“Todd?”

“Amanda?” Todd unbuckled himself and scrambled out of the SUV. They met in the middle, his arms going around her neck and hers around his waist. A long moment passed as they held each other tightly and then finally they pulled back to look at each other. 

“You’re here, I can’t believe it.”

“Agent Black turned up at my door this morning, told me I had one last chance to see you, we got on a flight straight away.”

Farah cleared her throat and stepped up to the siblings. “We can’t stay long, we had a long journey to get here without being followed and I don’t want to risk your safety.”

Amanda nodded in understanding. “Come on, it’s warm by the fire.” She led her brother over to the bonfire, sitting him down on one of the boxes. Dipping into one of the containers for two beers, she handed one to Todd and sat down next to him. At some point, Martin and the others had moved over to the other side of the clearing so that they could still see her but give her some privacy and she appreciated the sentiment. 

“You okay?” Todd asked. 

“Not really,” Amanda sighed. “It’s been a hell of a long week.” Her hand went unconsciously to her neck and the fading bruises still there. 

“This is all my fault.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I’m the one that dragged you out to that club.”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “You were...but you didn’t make me go outside to smoke, you didn’t know some psychopath would be there.”

“Still, I feel responsible.”

“Don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty of things you should feel responsible for,” she reminded him and his eyes dropped to the ground guiltily. “This isn’t one of those things, okay?” Her throat felt tight as she looked at her only family member. “I’m gonna be okay you know, after the trial, wherever they send me, I’ll be okay.”

“Really?”

Amanda forced a smile. “Really,” she told him, hoping to believe her own words. 

“So, uh, these bodyguards, they’ve been looking after you?”

“Yeah.” Amanda’s eyes drifted to the bleached mohawk in the distance and smiled. “They’ve been really good to me.” 

They talked for over hour, the conversation drifting from family holidays to the new guy in Todd’s life. 

“He has this thing about the interconnectedness of everything which I don’t really understand but he loves it so…” he had told Amanda with a nonchalant shrug and a blush. 

When she saw Farah walking towards them her stomach dropped. “No, it’s not been enough time,” she protested. 

“I’m sorry, Amanda, we’ve already stayed longer than planned, it’s time to say your goodbyes.”

“Shit.” Amanda looked at Todd with wide eyes as they both stood up. “I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”

“Me either,” Todd replied sadly. 

She wove her arms around his neck and pulled him in tightly. “Don’t do anything stupid okay? I’m not going to be there to pick up the pieces next time,” she reminded him. 

“I won’t, I promise.” 

Amanda set her jaw, determined not to cry. “I love you Todd”

“I love you, too, sis.”

Reluctantly, they pulled apart and Todd followed Farah back to the car. He stopped halfway and looked back at her one last time. She waved and he waved back. She didn’t notice Martin come to stand beside her, not until the SUV had driven out of sight. 

“This was all your idea?” she asked, turning to face him. 

He gave a half shrug, confusing her expression for one of anger. “Just wanted to help,” he tried to explain. 

He hadn’t expected Amanda to launch herself at him and he almost stumbled, off-balance, as she threw her arms around his neck. His arms slid around her waist to hold her steady and he used the momentum to swing her around to stop either of them from falling. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. He was warm and solid against her and she didn’t want to let go. Her fingers brushed the short hair down the back of his head and her skin tingled where his hands pressed into her back. “Thank you.” 

He pushed his face into her neck and breathed her in. “Anytime, Drummer,” he whispered back. 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Amanda woke up to quiet, something she hadn’t experienced in a week. Though the men tried to be quiet, they were a large presence in a small room, sounding like a herd of elephants everytime they moved around. When her eyes cracked open, she was surprised to find the room empty. Her bodyguards were nowhere to be seen. 

Suddenly she heard running water and a moment later, Martin appeared from the bathroom, shirtless. 

“Morning,” he greeted her with a nod. 

She swallowed hard as she took in the sharp lines of muscle and the vee of his hips which continued under his jeans. Amanda wasn’t sure how she had gone a whole week without seeing him without a shirt on and it left her mouth dry. 

Realising she hadn’t responded, she blurted out a quick “Morning,” and scrambled out of bed. She padded over to the bathroom, brushing past Martin on the way, once again feeling the heat that radiated off him and the spark of electricity as they touched.

After relieving her bladder and washing her hands, she brushed her teeth, rinsing out the stale taste in her mouth. Bringing her eyes up to meet the pair reflected back at her in the mirror, she wasn’t surprised to see dark circles underneath them. She had probably only slept for four hours and it was obvious. 

Opening the door, she found Martin stood by the window, peering through the blinds. Laying over the other bed was a set of clothes, black trousers, a smart top and a matching jacket. 

Martin followed her eyes. “Agent Black brought those round earlier when you were asleep,” he explained. 

Amanda nodded. The clothes looked her size and there was no way she could testify in court wearing ripped jeans and a t-shirt. “Where are the others?”

“Scouting out the courthouse.”

Amanda’s eyebrows rose. “Not you?” The confirmation that they were alone for a while at least had her pulse rising. She crossed the room and came to a stop beside Martin. This was the only time she and Martin would have alone together before the trial and she didn’t want to waste it. 

Martin smirked. “Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

“True.” She nodded. “And it was your call to stay behind with me?”

Martin’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What’re you thinking, Drummer?”

“Look,” Amanda began, stepping into Martin’s personal space. “I know you want to stay professional about... _ us _ -”

“Drummer,” he warned, his voice low. 

“But after today, we’re never going to see each other again,” she reminded him. Her throat felt tight as her own words sunk in. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to have any regrets, do you?”

Martin’s head lowered until it was pressed against Amanda’s forehead. “This isn’t a good idea.” 

“Probably not,” she agreed, her voice nothing but a whisper. After their almost kiss, she wasn’t sure what his reaction would be, but she couldn’t leave him without knowing what kissing him would be like. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she summoned what courage she had and rose up to press her lips against Martin’s. The kiss was brief, just a taste, before Amanda pulled back, her eyes instantly searching Martin’s to see if she’d made a mistake. “Do you want to stop?” she asked. 

He didn’t reply. Instead, his hand slid around the nape of her neck and he pulled her back in, kissing her hard. She sank into it without hesitation, gasping into his mouth while she held onto his shoulders for dear life. Suddenly she was moving backwards as Martin used his body to push her into the wall behind her. The hands framing her face slid down her body and around her thighs and she let him lift her up. Using the wall for leverage, he guided her legs around his waist and her ankles locked together, heels pressing into his ass. 

The way he tasted, the low groans she could pull from him at the right angle, the heat of his tongue against hers, his beard scratching her skin, it left her wanting more. She could feel just how much he was affecting her underneath her track pants and she could feel just how much she was affecting him, too. 

Everywhere his hands touched, her skin felt on fire. They drifted up her thighs and then slipped under her t-shirt. His large hands splayed across her stomach before inching up even higher. Amanda broke away from Martin long enough for her to pull the the shirt up, her breath hitching as his fingers skimmed her breasts as he lifted it over her head and dropped it on the floor by his feet. 

His eyes flicked down and took in the expanse of skin on view and Amanda couldn’t help be satisfied by the dark look of want in his eyes. 

Without warning, Martin lifted her away from the wall and carried her over to the bed she’d recently vacated. Lowering her down onto the covers, he sunk down on top of her, pressing his hips into hers and rolling slowly. Her own hips automatically lifting up to meet his in a delicious grind. 

“Fuck.” She couldn’t help the swear that left her mouth. “Don’t stop.” 

Martin huffed out a satisfied laugh and did as he was told. As he moved on top of her, he left a trail of kisses across Amanda’s jaw and down her neck. Suddenly he froze against her and lifted his head to meet her eyes. “Condoms are in the van,” he realised. 

“Fuck,” she swore again, this time in frustration. 

Not wanting to stop, she trailed her fingers up and down his flank and arched her neck to give Martin more room to operate. “There’s still lots we can do, y’know,” she reminded him, lowering her hands down between them to unbuckle his belt. “And enough time before we have to be at court.”

He didn’t stop her hands from lowering the zipper or pushing the jeans down his legs. She felt his lips curve into a smile against her collarbone and she matched it with one of her own. 

“You done this before?”

“Have sex? Once or twice,” he retorted. 

“No, I mean...with someone you were protecting.”

Martin stilled against her and Amanda wished she hadn’t said anything. She knew he had passed a self imposed line the minute he had kissed her back. 

All of a sudden, his hands pressed into her hips and with his bodyweight, rolled them over until he was underneath and her knees were pressed into the bed either side of him. Amanda went easily and gasped as her weight forced her down onto his arousal, her track pants and his boxers a thin barrier between the two of them. 

“No,” he finally answered. “Just you.”

She grinned down at him. “Just me, huh?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.” 

“Too late.” She shifted on top of him and he bit his lip in response. “Do you know what I would do if we had more time? More  _ provisions _ ?” She told him as she began a steady roll of her hips.

“Tell me.”

She lowered her mouth to his ear. “I’d let you fuck me against that wall, in the shower, maybe even against the van.”

“Shit... Drummer.”

They rubbed against each other slow at first, enjoying the friction and the sparks of pleasure it was causing, but as their desperation increased, so did the tempo. Amanda’s hips thrust hard against Martin’s, his hands on her hips guiding her movements back and forth. There was a tight heat in between her legs that was begging for release and she wished there wasn’t a barrier of material between them. He rose up, kissing the sweat-slick skin between her breasts and then up to press his mouth to hers. As one hand rose to thread through her hair, the other dipped underneath her pants and rubbed circles in the wetness he found. 

It didn’t take much. Amanda’s mouth ripped away from Martin’s as she exploded underneath his ministrations. Her eyes fluttered shut and her thrusting became jerky. As the orgasm faded, she sagged heavily against him, her head dropping down to rest on his shoulder. His hands rubbed up and down her back in soothing movements, his thumbs, slipping down occasionally to slide across the sides of the breasts. 

“You didn’t…?” she asked softly. 

He shook his head. “It’s okay.”

Amanda frowned. “I can-” Her hand slipped down between them but he reached out and stopped her. 

“Another time.” 

Sliding off him, she curled into his side and laid her head beside his. “There’s not going to be a next time, remember?”

“Never say never.”

Amanda didn’t know how to respond. Of course she wanted more with Martin, it was never about checking a box off with him. But she also knew the chances of seeing him again were slim. She had no idea where they would be placing her, and he and the others traveled so much. Plus that was that pesky issue of never being able to speak to anyone from your past ever again. 

Lifting her head off the pillow, she looked down at Martin.The need to kiss him again took over and she leant down to press her lips to his. For a while they stayed like that, the kiss not leading to anything more. When air became an issue, Amanda pulled back and settled back down beside him. 

“Are you ready?” 

“Am I ready to testify whilst sitting in the same room as the man who wants me dead? Or am I ready to start my life over again?”

“Both.”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” Amanda let out a sigh. “It’s not fair y’know? He’s the one that killed someone, I’m the one that gets a life sentence” Martin didn’t respond. After a moment she leant over and kissed his shoulder. “I should go shower.” Reluctantly she rose up, not worrying about covering up as she climbed out of bed. She liked the way Martin looked her up and down as she stood over him. 

When just a step away from the bathroom she stopped and turned around. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Martin asked. “Saving your life? Or the sex?”

Amanda smiled back at him. “Both.”

When she came back out twenty minutes later, Martin was outside the bedroom and by the sound of it the others had returned. She held the towel tightly around her body and walked over to the clothes Farah had left for her. Grabbing the clothes and her bag, she returned to the bathroom to get dressed. The jacket sat tight over her shoulders and the trousers were a little short at the ankle but they would do. She grumbled under her breath at the lack of make-up in her bag. It hadn’t been an essential when shopping in the pharmacy but now she wish she’d picked some up. Her eyeliner had always been a mask, a protective barrier against the world. Her naked face stared back at her in the mirror. 

“You got this, Brotzman,” she told herself. Sucking in a deep breath, she held it for a long moment and then let it out. 

Stepping out of the bedroom in her new clothes, she didn’t miss the appreciative look that Martin sent her. She raised an eyebrow at him and shook her head. The others appeared unaware of what had occured between her and Martin whilst they were out, and it looked like Martin wanted it kept that way. 

“Let's get this shit over with, shall we?” Cross suggested. 

Martin nodded in agreement and lead the group down to the van. In the driver’s seat, he met Amanda’s eyes in the rear view mirror as he twisted the key in the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. 

During the fifteen minute journey, Amanda found herself tapping a beat against the bench, the same beat she had tapped out nervously the night she had met Martin. 

She felt the van drop, like it was driving down a long slope and then Martin pushed his foot down on the brake and put it into park. Knowing the drill, Amanda waited for the others to get out and then climbed out herself, finding herself in an underground parking lot. Gripps and Vogel had walked ahead and were nearly at the elevator, whilst Martin and Cross stood either side of her. 

She felt Martin’s hand on the small of her back. “Let’s go.” 

They walked in a line, the two men staying in step with her the entire way. They were both on high alert, scanning the open lot for trouble. 

She didn’t see the movement behind her, but Martin did. One second she was headed towards the elevator and the next Martin had grabbed her around the waist roughly and pulled her behind a concrete pillar. Gunshots echoed in the enclosed space and her ears rung from the repetitive cracks. 

She attempted to look to see what was happening but Martin pulled her back behind the concrete. “Stay down!” He shouted at her though she could barely hear him over the sound of the gunshots and her heart pounding in her ears. 

With all the chaos, she hadn’t noticed how narrow the pillar was, that it wasn’t wide enough for the both of them. She couldn’t see that Martin was using his body to shield her against the bullets. 

It was only a matter of time before he was hit. 

He grunted and slumped over her for a moment. When he pulled away there was a circle of blood over his shoulder that was slowly expanding as the blood seeped into his shirt. He looked down in surprise and then up at Amanda with wide eyes. 

“Martin!” She gasped. Looking around, she saw Cross pressed against another pillar and over by the elevator Gripps and Vogel were hiding behind some cars. She couldn’t see Farah anywhere and hoped the agent had heard the gunfire and was on her way.   
  
“Help!” she shouted at them. “Martin’s been shot!” 

Cross looked over with fear in his eyes, something she wasn’t prepared for. Help wasn’t coming, not when their attacker still had bullets in his gun. Grabbing his belt, she pulled Martin tightly against her, hoping to keep the injured man out of the line of fire. It wasn’t enough. 

Something hit Martin with enough force to rip him out of her grip and down onto the ground with a painful thud. He lay out in the open, an easy target for the attacker as more blood started seeping out of a second wound on his thigh. Amanda knew that if she didn’t do something, she would watch Martin die right in front of her. 

Keeping her eyes firmly on Martin, she swallowed hard. “Stop shooting!” she shouted. Slowly she rose her hands up into the air. “Leave them be and I’ll come with you.” When the gun stopped firing, she knew she’d been heard. 

“What are you doin’?” Martin gritted out. She could see the pain in his eyes and the blood which had started to stain the concrete below him.  

“Saving your life!” 

“Not...your job”

She stepped out from behind the column, hands still surrendered in the air. “Let them go, and you can take me,” she promised again. 

“Drummer!” Cross called from the other side. When she looked over he was shaking his head. “Don’t do this.”

“It’s okay, Cross.” The pounding of her heart in her chest hurt and she gritted her teeth to stop her fear from overwhelming her. 

Two men stepped out from their hiding places, their guns held up and aimed in her direction.  

“Step away from them!” the tallest of the two men ordered. 

When she looked down at Martin, it was through glassy eyes. The expression Martin’s face was unfamiliar to her and she realised it was dread. 

“Don’t.” 

“Do it!” The man shouted again. 

Amanda shook her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t watch you die.”  

“And I can?!” Martin growled.  

How could she event begin to explain why she was giving up her life for him? Amanda had already witnessed more death than anyone should have to and she couldn’t live with blood on her hands. She couldn’t live with  _ Martin’s _ blood on her hands. 

Slowly, step by step, she walked away from him and towards the two men hired to kill her. 

When only a feet feet away, the tall gunman launched forwards and grabbed her shoulder painfully. She was forcefully turned to face her friends and a boot to the back of her knees dropped her to the ground. She cried out as her kneecaps met the hard floor below, her hands barely able to break her fall. 

“After all the hard work in keeping her alive, it’s only fair you get to watch her die, don’t you think?” 

“Bastard!” Cross shouted. 

Cold metal pressed against her head. Amanda shut her eyes. 


	7. Chapter 7

Amanda’s body shuddered at the crack of a gun going off. The sound went through her and she cried out.

There was no pain.

Her eyes snapped open as the body of the gunman’s accomplice hit the ground, his wide empty eyes staring back at her.

Martin’s eyes flicked to something past her and then back to Amanda.

“Hey, Drummer! Remember what I taught you okay?” he shouted across the parking lot.

She couldn't understand what he was trying to tell her and a second later his words were forgotten as she heard footsteps running towards them.

“FBI! Put your hands up! Now!” Farah’s voice echoed as she shouted at the gunman. The relief that flooded Amanda when she heard Farah’s voice left her gasping. The gun pressed against her head lifted away and aimed towards Farah, shooting off a couple of rounds in her direction.

In that moment, Amanda realised what Martin was telling her. The man standing over her was temporarily distracted by Farah and Amanda knew she only had a short window of opportunity.

As she rose to her feet, he spun back to face her but he hadn’t expected her to fight back. She grabbed his arm with both hands and pushed the gun up into the air where it couldn’t do any damage. He struggled against her but Martin’s lesson had sunk in and she swung her left foot up into his groin which as much force as she could. He let out an unmanly squeal at the pain and Amanda used the momentum to twist his wrist sharply. The gun dropped to the ground with a clatter and she continued twisting until his arm was pushed so tightly behind his back she could hear his bones protest at the awkward angle. Using the same move on him that he used on her, she forced him to his knees and then pushed down between his shoulder blades until he was flat on the ground. He swore and spat at her but she ignored it.

Grabbing a handful of his hair with her free hand, she lifted his head. “This is for shooting Martin, you fucker,” she growled before slamming his face down into the concrete. He didn’t move after that.

Amanda stumbled backwards, and her legs soon gave out, falling into a heap beside the unconscious man. She felt hands on her checking her over and when she looked up, she met Farah’s concerned eyes.

“Amanda, are you okay?”

“Martin,” she responded, ignoring the question. “He was shot.” With the last of her energy, Amanda forced herself up onto her feet. Farah held on for support as she stumbled over to where Martin was laying. His lips had turned white and the amount of blood surrounding him freaked her out. Cross, Gripps and Vogel had run over the minute both attackers were down and between them were pressing down on in the wounds in his body to stop more blood from escaping.

Out of her pocket, Farah retrieved a radio. “This is Agent Black, we have a man down, parking lot north side, we need an ambulance ASAP!” she barked into the device before pushing it back into her pocket.

Amanda stroked her hand down Martin’s pale face. She didn’t like how cold he felt. “You took a bullet for me.”

“Two,” he croaked out. “Definitely two.”

Amanda smiled down at him. “You’re gonna be fine, you hear me?”

He smiled back weakly. “I’ve had worse.”

Her laugh turned into a sob. “Let me be the judge of that.”

“Amanda,” Farah interrupted urgently. “We have to go.”

Amanda looked up at Farah, a stubborn look of determination across her face. “I’m not leaving him.”

“I’m sorry Amanda, but if we don’t go now, they’re gonna let Kellum walk.”

“Go,” Martin told her. “Gripps...Vogel, go with her.”

“Yes, Boss,” Gripps nodded.

“I’ll keep him alive till the ambulance arrives,” Cross directed at Amanda. “I promise.”

Amanda looked down at Martin and swallowed hard. She didn’t want this to be the last time she saw him. Slowly, she lowered herself down until her forehead was pressed against his. “This isn’t goodbye, okay?”

“Okay, Drummer,” he responded quietly. Carefully, she closed the distance between them, kissing him softly before letting Gripps pick her up off the ground. With Gripps on her left, Vogel on her right and Farah leading the group, they walked away from Martin and Cross. With one last look back at Martin, Amanda entered the elevator Amanda, the sound of sirens in the distance.

Her reflection in the elevator’s mirrored wall pulled no punches. Blood covered her jacket and the knowledge that it belonged to Martin made her shiver. Her face was covered in dust and dirt from the fight and her eyes were red and puffy. She looked as bad as she felt.

Farah manoeuvred her around like she was a ragdoll, slipping the bloodstained jacket off her shoulders and replacing it with her own clean one. It didn’t match the trousers at all but Amanda was relieved to not have to look at Martin’s blood all over her. 

The elevator beeped when they reached the right floor and the doors separated onto a long busy hallway. The trio pushed a dazed Amanda out of the elevator and she let them lead her into a small waiting room down one end of the corridor.

“They’re gonna call you any second,” Farah told her, though Amanda wasn’t listening.  “Amanda?”

Amanda blinked. She knew Farah needed her to be strong but it wasn’t easy. Turning to Gripps, she grabbed his wrist. “Don’t go.”

“Not going anywhere,” he confirmed.

“Yeah, Drummer.” Vogel wrapped an arm over her shoulder. “We’re gonna stick by you like glue.”

“Martin would kill us if we didn’t,” Gripps reminded her.

She smiled at them, unable to voice her gratitude.

“Amanda?” Farah tried again and this time Amanda let her eyes meet Farah’s. Nodding at the agent, she tried to reassure her that she was okay, that she would do what needed doing.

A knock at the door startled her and Amanda spun around as a man in a suit popped his head round the door. “They’re ready for Miss Brotzman,” he announced before disappearing again.

Gripps and Vogel took up their positions either side of her once again and Farah lead them out of the room and back down the long hallway.

When she stepped into the courtroom, her eyes widened. She hadn’t been prepared for the hundred eyes that looked round as she entered. Her eyes drifted from the judge to the bailiffs and then to the jury. Finally, her eyes landed on Kellum, glaring at her like he hoped looks could kill, clearly angry that his attempts to stop her from testifying hadn't worked. She refused to let him get to her and she held her head high as she walked through the gallery, packed with people wanting to watch the high profile trial, including plenty of a Kellum’s supporters. Gripps and Vogel passed her off to Farah as they reached as far as they were allowed to go and Farah’s comforting hand returned to Amanda’s shoulder as she guided her to the witness box.

Amanda watched Gripps and Vogel take a seat, forcing people in the front row of the gallery to make room for them and she kept her eyes on them until a bailiff blocked her view and pushed a bible in front of her. She placed her right hand on top, like she’d seen people do in the movies.

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth u nder pains and penalties of perjury?” he asked.

“I swear,” she replied.

Amanda hadn’t really been prepared for being questioned. She knew it would be hard, but she hadn’t expected it to be as hard as it was. Having to go over that night again and again and in minute detail was tough, the trauma of the night still raw. When she was cross-examined it only got worse as the defence attorney attempted to discredit her every word. Why had she been outside on her own? What had she had to drink that night? Had she taken drugs in the past? It was dark, was she sure? Did she have something against his client?  

By the end, Amanda’s hands were shaking with anger. She hated how her words had been twisted to make it seem like she was a vindictive drunk who was envious of Kellum’s other girls and was making everything up to get revenge. She hated the pleased look in Kellum’s eyes as he saw her squirm. All she could do was rely on the truth and hope the jury saw past the attorney’s version of events.

When it was all over, Gripps and Vogel escorted her back to the side room and she immediately collapsed into a chair.

“You did good, Drummer” Gripps assured her as Vogel disappeared out of the room, returning a minute later with a cup of water which he handed to Amanda. A moment later Cross stepped into the room, looking tired but okay. 

“Cross!” Amanda looked up at him, surprised to see him “What’s going on, where’s Martin?”

“When I tried to get into the ambulance, he said he would kick my ass if I didn’t come check to see if you were okay,” Cross answered. “He’ll be just fine.”

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Stubborn ass.”

“Takes one to know one,” Cross said with a pointed look. “That was a gutsy move earlier.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me.” She shuddered at her most recent near death experience. Hopefully it would be her last.

Their conversation was interrupted by Farah re-entering the room, two more agents in cheap suits following her like shadows.

“Good job back there,” Farah told her. “If the jury don’t believe your story, they’re crazy.”

“He’s going away, then?”

Farah sighed. “I really hope so,” she answered and Amanda’s stomach sunk, realising for the first that that even after everything she had been through, there was still a chance the jury would find him not guilty. She wasn’t sure what she would do if that was the case.

“I came to introduce you to Special Agents Marshal and Shannon, they’re here to take you into witness protection.”

Amanda’s eyes widened and she rose from her chair. “No…I can’t”.

“Amanda, it’s still not safe. I’m sorry, but there’s no other choice.”

“I’m not leaving,” she said, standing her ground. “Not right now.”  _ Not ever  _ she wanted to say. Too much had happened in the last week. She thought she could do it, back when it had first been explained to her. It had seemed like something future Amanda would have to deal with. Facing the reality of witness protection after meeting Martin, the others and everything they had gone through together felt unimaginable now. The word family felt like a strong word to use after seven days, but that’s what they had become to her. A part of Amanda wondered if it had all been fate that had brought them together but she wasn’t sure she even believed in fate.

“If this is about Martin, we can organise some kind of visit, maybe in a few weeks,” Farah tried.

“No,” Amanda repeated. “I’m not going, end of.”

Farah sighed. “Do you realise what you’re doing? After today, we won’t be able to protect you.”

“No,” Cross agreed, stepping into the conversation. “But we can.”

“Yeah,” Vogel grinned. “We’ll keep her safe.”

Amanda’s face warmed at her new friends words and something inside her calmed.

“We can’t pay you to do that,” Farah reminded them.

“Look, I think I have an idea…It’s a little bit crazy but I think it’ll work…Martin’s either gonna kiss me or kill me for this.” Cross grinned.

Amanda looked at Cross curiously. She was open to any ideas that wouldn’t end up with her across the other side of the country with a new name.

“Am I going to hate it?” Farah asked.

“Definitely.”

* * *

Cross, Gripps and Vogel stood a few feet away from the van parked in the entrance to the hospital. They knew their leader well enough to know he would sign himself out against medical advice as soon as he possibly could. They weren’t disappointed when the agent Farah had sent to the hospital reported that Martin had received the bare minimum treatment and was threatening bodily harm if they didn’t let him go.

Martin appeared from the hospital entrance, one arm held against his body in a sling and his gait affected by a heavy limp. Somehow Martin had avoided having his jeans cut up so the doctors could access the bullet wound and over the top of the denim a thick white bandage had been wrapped around his leg. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, looking at his friends suspiciously as he came to a stop in front of them. 

“Drummer did her thing in court,” Cross explained, his voice unusually quiet and serious. “The agents came to take her into witsec.”

Martin nodded, his face an unreadable mask. “As expected, right?”

“So here’s the thing.” Cross looked at Gripps and Vogel either side of him, “Drummer didn’t want to go.”

“And we didn’t want her to go either,” Gripps added.

“We like her, Boss,” Vogel supplied.

Martin raised an eyebrow. “What are you saying?”

“Well, you see, we had no choice but to make an executive decision on your behalf.” The trio stepped to one side to reveal Amanda, sat in the doorway of the van, her legs swinging underneath her. “And hire her.”

Amanda burst out laughing at the look of shock of Martin’s face.

“You…you hired Drummer…without me,” he said slowly, his mind taking time to process the information.

“You can thank us later.” Cross grinned. 

Amanda jumped down from her seat. “Okay, give us five boys,” she requested as she walked up to stand in front of Martin. Cross winked at her as they walked off and disappeared out of sight. “You okay?” she asked, concerned. He looked a whole lot better since the last time she saw him lying in a pool of his own blood but the bandage and sling were a stark reminder that she had nearly lost him.

“I’ll survive,” he reassured her.

“You worried the shit out of me you know.”

“Likewise,” he responded. “So…you didn’t go?”

“I told you it wasn’t goodbye.”

“That you did.”

“I just-” Amanda’s eyes dropped to the ground. “...I couldn’t, not after everything…It was like-” She sighed as she tried to work out how to explain something she hadn’t fully figured out herself yet. She looked back up at Martin. “It was like I was leaving halfway through something and I knew that not staying to see where it lead would be the biggest mistake of my life…does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does,” he agreed.

“Anyway, only place I’ve felt safe in the last two weeks is with you so...” She shrugged. “It was the others who came up with the idea of hiring me, if you hate it, just say something, I could still go-”

“No.” Martin’s free arm reached out and tugged her close. “I don’t hate it.”

“No?” Amanda smiled.

“You want me to say it, Drummer?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “I want you to say it.”

“Fine.” Somehow, even with a limp, Martin was able to guide Amanda backwards until her back bumped against the van. He pressed himself against her gently, cautious of his injuries, and lowered his mouth to her ear. “I want you to stay.” 

“Yeah?”

He leaned back enough to meet her eyes. “Well, how else am I gonna keep you from getting yourself killed?”

Amanda laughed. “Fair enough.” 

Sliding her arm over his uninjured shoulder to hold him close, she angled her head until their lips met. As the kiss deepened, she heard the unmistakable sounds of the other members of Rowdy 3 protection returning, their hooting and hollering making her smile against Martin’s mouth.

Vogel let out a groan and pretended to puke. “You two finished kissing yet?”

Martin pulled away and raised an eyebrow at Vogel. “Get used to it.”

Amanda grinned. “Come on, we need to pick up some essentials.”

“Essentials?”

“Well I’m going to need a leather jacket if I’m joining the crew, as well as some more clothes and we’re definitely going to need to stock up on food, beer, and cigarettes,” she listed off each item on her fingers. “And condoms, can’t forget the condoms,” she added, punctuating it with a tug of his belt buckle.

“I thought we had some in the van?”

Amanda laughed. “According to Vogel, you all got drunk last month for his birthday and you blew them up and used them as balloons.” 

Martin frowned. “That’s starting to sound familiar.”

“Hence, condoms on the shopping list.” She gave him a pointed look.

Martin’s eyes darkened. “Better get going, then.”

Cross shook his head. “Oh,  _ brother,” _   he sighed, which only made Amanda laugh again.

“Keys?” Martin requested and Gripps lifted them from his back pocket, throwing them in Martin’s direction. Martin caught them deftly with one hand and nodded a thanks to Gripps.

Amanda looked at Martin incredulously. “You’re not seriously going to attempt to drive in a sling are you?”

“’Course not, Drummer.” He gritted his teeth and winced as he carefully removed the sling and threw the discarded material towards the nearby trash can.

Amanda sighed. “Should’a guessed.” 

He smirked at her as he lifted himself into the driver's seat. He looked like he was in pain but Amanda just shook her head at his stubbornness. If he wanted to drive, Amanda wasn’t going to stop him.

“Hey, Drummer?”

Amanda stopped halfway into the van and looked over at Martin, his head leaning out of the open window.

“There’s an empty seat up here, y’know.”

Amanda grinned and quickly jumped back down. Circling the van, she opened the passenger side door and climbed inside.

“Where are we going?” she asked as she got comfortable in her new seat.

“Not sure yet,” he answered, “Anywhere but here sounds good.”

Amanda twisted onto her side so that she could face Martin and dropped her head against the headrest. Getting as far away as possibly from Kellum and the courthouse was a good idea. Amanda knew she couldn’t run from the fact that even with her testimony he could be set free, but she wanted to forget, for a little while at least. There was still a couple more weeks of trial to go before jury deliberation and Amanda hope they were far away when the results came in.

Shaking the thought of Kellum from her mind, she smiled at Martin. “Sounds good to me, too.”

* * *

**EPILOGUE**

The woman lowered herself down into the plastic chair beside the desk, relieved to be off her shaking legs. Whilst she waited for Agent Black to return, she tapped her right foot against the floor nervously a nervous rhythm.

“You Lydia?” 

Lydia jerked and jumped from her seat, turning to face a strange man, standing a few feet away from her. She took a couple of steps back away from the man and towards the wall. 

“Who are you?” she demanded. They way he dressed, his blonde mohawk, he was no FBI agent, certainly not one she’d ever met before. “Please don’t hurt me.” 

He raised an eyebrow and there was a look of amusement on his face that left Lydia confused. “Hurt you?” 

“Don’t worry about him.” Lydia peered over the man’s broad shoulders as a young woman strode confidently into the room. “I know he looks scary, but he’s just a big softie inside,” the woman reassured her as she came to a stop beside the man. He looked down at her with a frown. “Don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true.”

“Who are you?” Lydia asked. The woman had long dark hair pulled into a high ponytail that revealed a shaved undercut across both sides. With the thick dark eyeliner and leather jacket, she also looked more like a motorcycle gang member than a federal agent. 

“It’s okay, we’re here to help. Farah, Agent Black, sent us.” She stepped towards Lydia slowly. “I’m Amanda, this is Martin, we’ve been hired to keep you safe.”

“Oh good!” Agent Black walked back into the room and smiled. “You’ve all met” Lydia watched the agent catch Amanda’s eyes and they greeted each other with matching smiles. “Lydia, Martin runs Rowdy 3 protection, he and his team are going to keep you safe until we can track down your ex and put him behind bars.”

“Them?” Lydia balked. “You've gotta be kidding."

Amanda snorted and Lydia’s eyes turned to her.

“Sorry!” Amanda held her hands up. “It’s just, I’ve been where you are, and I had the exact same reaction, trust me.”

“You have? You did?”

“Not that long ago, either.” Amanda glanced back at Martin for a moment and then back at Lydia. “But if you trust us, I promise you we won’t let you down. We haven’t lost a client yet.”

Lydia looked at Agent Black for confirmation who nodded back at her. 

She thought about it for a long moment. She didn’t know what it was, but something about Amanda made Lydia trust her. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Amanda smiled softly. “Martin’s going to take you down to the van and we’ll get you somewhere safe. Me and Agent Black will be right behind you.”

Martin jerked his head towards the door. “This way.” 

Lydia followed behind Martin as he lead her out the door, looking back on the way to check that Amanda and Agent Black were following. She couldn’t help herself eavesdropping on their conversation as they walked a few steps behind her. 

“So what is it like?” Agent Black asked. 

“What’s what like?” Amanda responded. 

“You, Martin, the open road.”

Amanda laughed. “It’s good, we’re good.”

“Good.”

“And how’s prison life treating Kellum?”

“From what I hear, he ends up in fights at least once a week and spends more time than not in solitary.”

“Very good.”

“You’ll also be glad to know he doesn’t get to use the phone and he’s not allowed visitors other than his lawyer.”

“So what you’re saying is that I’m safe.”

“Yes, you’re safe.”

Outside, Lydia stopped in front of a black van. The van had been heavily graffitied and looked like it was about to fall apart from age. With a hard yank, Martin slid open the side door revealing three men inside. 

The van’s occupants were similarly attired in ripped denim, leather and chains and Lydia wondered if she was making a big mistake by getting inside the van with them. 

Like she could sense Lydia’s doubt, Amanda stepped up beside her. “They’re harmless idiots...well, up until you’re in danger and then it’s these guys you want watching your back.”

“You’ve been where I have,” Lydia repeated her earlier words. 

“Yeah, I have.” Amanda nudged her. “Go on, climb in, we’ve got a bit of a drive ahead of us.” 

She was surprised when Martin helped her inside and leant against the door. “Cross, Gripps, Vogel, meet Lydia, our new client.” She smiled awkwardly at the men she’d just been introduced to before turning her focus to the two women still standing outside. 

“Amanda. Just because you’re safe  _ now _ -”

“I know, I know.”

“You could still take that witsec deal you know, change your name.”  
  
“Thanks, Farah, but I’m where I’m supposed to be.”  
  
“And with who you’re supposed to be with,” Farah added with an arched brow. 

“Exactly.” Amanda grinned. “Look, I’m not scared of him anymore, he has no hold over me. I’m a badass with a baseball bat.” Farah rolled her eyes. “...And anyway, I already have a new name.”

“Yeah?”

Amanda opened her mouth to answer but was cut off before she could speak.

“Drummer!” Martin shouted impatiently. 

Amanda laughed. “That’s my cue,” she wrapped her arms around Agent Black briefly before pulling away. “We’ll get in touch when she’s secure.” Agent Black nodded. 

As Amanda stepped towards the van, Martin pushed away from the door and silently climbed into the driver’s seat, Amanda’s eyes following him the whole way. Lydia wondered if she realised she was doing it. Turning her attention back to Lydia, Amanda gave her another reassuring smile before sliding the door shut. A moment later Amanda climbed into the passenger seat up front. 

“Ready to go?” Martin asked her. 

Amanda shifted in her seat to get comfortable and then nodded sharply at Martin. “Let’s do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and all the nice comments!
> 
> Particular thanks to Intricatecakes and thatfaerieprincess for being awesome as I was writing this!


End file.
